


The Heart Benefits Of Exercise

by A_reluctant_dreamer



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bucky Barnes & Peter Parker Friendship, But they're safe I swear, Getting Together, Gym Newbie Peter, Gym Owner Trainer Tony, Gym Sex, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Mirror Sex, Nothing explicit though just the fact, Rimming, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_reluctant_dreamer/pseuds/A_reluctant_dreamer
Summary: Written for the Starker Secret Santa exchange in 2019 for the following prompt by seldom-seen-kid (at Tumblr):Personal Trainer Tony and Gym Newbie Peter. Peter can hardly keep it together watching Tony demonstrate different exercises and lift weights. Tony is very much aware of the effect he has on his trainee, and after a session, Peter begs to be shown a whole different array of exercises. NSFW.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 244





	The Heart Benefits Of Exercise

By the end of his first year at university, Peter Parker had had to admit that despite his straight As in his finals, when it came to his work-life balance, he’d failed abysmally. Despite the number of times he chose tidying as a mean of procrastination, by the time he’d finished his last exam, the apartment he shared with his flatmate was in dire need of cleaning. As Peter looked around with a rubbish bag in his hand, he winced at the piles of empty — oh God, let them be empty — takeaway containers, pizza boxes and empty noodle cans that littered their kitchen and living room. With a groan, he set to picking them up and mentally swore to eat a salad later that day. His body deserved better than how he’s been treating it lately. His resolve has been strengthened by the end of the day, when he collapsed onto the sofa, too exhausted by simply cleaning his apartment to do anything else for the rest of the evening.

Peter bought his running shoes the next day, after extensive online research the night before. His first attempts where nothing short of torturous, but he soon started to learn how to breath and pace himself to increase his endurance and eventually came to enjoy the soft burn that lingered in his muscles and the shot of energy he received from a good run. When his runner’s app congratulated him on his progress for the first time, Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. Him? Peter Benjamin Parker, Gen Z disaster has managed to be persistent enough to achieve such a thing? Even if he saw it for the marketing tactic that it was, he couldn’t help the way he straightened his posture and grinned.

Peter managed to keep up his routine for most of the summer. The real challenge of course was to keep going once his classes started again in the autumn, but he managed surprisingly well over the course of the first few months. As November drew near however, Peter found himself spending more and more evenings curled up on the sofa with his laptop, working on assignments and shooting guilty glances at his running shoes in the corner. Peter got a grip and did his usual run a few times, but as the weather was getting chillier, he found his resolve crumbling more often than not. The shameful moment when his app reminded him that he hasn’t done any exercise for two weeks straight came at the end of November.

Eyeing the icy branches of the trees outside his windows, Peter shuddered and pulled up Google instead. There had to be an affordable gym nearby. He would only need a subscription for the winter, then he can return to doing his laps the park. It took him about an hour to map out the gyms in his vicinity and to narrow it down to two likely candidates. One was cheaper and a lot closer to his uni, that meant he could avoid returning home first and find excuses not to go out again. The other however looked much nicer in the photos and more importantly mentioned clearly that it was LGBTQ-friendly. Though as a student, every cent counted to Peter, it was worth paying for being safe — at least as far as other gymgoers were concerned. No sum of money could protect Peter from his own clumsiness, but he banished that thought as he moved to the drawer to pack his outfit.

He decided to waste no time. If by any chance both gyms turned out to be a disappointment, he’d have to find another one. He grabbed his coat and turned up its collar against the chilly wind. He spent a few moments shivering on the pavement in hesitation, then, despite his guilt, he started towards the second gym. He told himself that walking those ten blocks will be a good warm up. Then, he came up with several different, similarly feeble attempts of justification before eventually admitting that he picked the place simply because he liked it better.

When he glimpsed the gym from the other side of the road, he felt a tingling sensation in his stomach. He couldn’t be nervous, could he? He was going into a gym. Just because it said LGBTQ-friendly, didn’t mean that the place would be swarming with hot, single and willing guys. But his sorry, single ass couldn’t help hoping just a little. The fantasies that has popped into his mind however were soon crushed by the little sound coming from the back of his mind that scrawny pale boys certainly weren’t what fit guys were dreaming about. Sure, running did him a lot of good, but the one thing it didn’t help Peter with at all was his skinny figure. 

Peter pushed those thoughts back with a sigh as he arrived at the gym. Not giving himself a chance to hesitate, he pushed the door open and entered. The warmth of the entrance hall though pleasant at first, made him break out in sweat in a few seconds. He dropped his backpack and shrugged off his jacket, trying to attract as little attention as he possibly could in the busy entrance hall. After picking up his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder, he shot a furtive glance towards the glass door to check his reflection. However, he didn’t get the reassurance he sought, because at that moment the door swung open and the most handsome man, he had ever laid eyes on entered the building. 

When Peter noticed that his mouth was hanging open, he closed it quickly and tried to convince himself that he wasn’t ogling a man like a fucking fish the whole time, even though the sinking feeling in his stomach was telling him otherwise. Peter felt hot all over again and he was ready to bolt and run all the way home when he managed to get a grip on his emotions and told himself to man up. He straightened himself, heaved a fortifying sigh and swore that by no means would he embarrass himself by looking for the man. He turned towards the counter, determined to greet the receptionist with a friendly smile, but instead of executing this simple task, his brain got derailed when he glimpsed the man again. He was shaking hands with the guy that he was apparently talking to while Peter was handling his mental breakdown. Before he turned to walk towards the changing rooms though, the man looked up and met Peter’s gaze. His smile knocked the breath out of Peter, but he managed to return it even as his knees were turning into jelly.

Later, Peter had difficulty to estimate how long he was standing there, rooted to the ground with a dreamy and possibly foolish expression. Judging by the smirk the receptionist gave him when he eventually tore himself from the spot and moved to buy a subscription, it must have been noticeable. Shaking off his embarrassment, Peter thanked the receptionist and followed them to the changing rooms. If he was silently praying that the handsome man hadn’t finished changing by now, that was nobody's business. Just like the unmistakable disappointment, Peter caught himself feeling when he glimpsed the almost empty changing room.

He needed to get a grip. Apprehensive as he was about going to a gym, he certainly hadn't expected the kind of complications that presented themselves in the form of butterflies in his stomach and semis in his pants. Ugh, but who was he lying to? His fantasies were exactly about meeting handsome ripped men. Reality, as often it was, proved to be somewhat more complicated than his imagination though. Peter went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. He'd come here to do his usual run. He was doing this for himself and it was worth it. He didn’t need any other incentive than the improvement of his health and wellbeing that he'd experienced since he started exercising. Strengthening his resolve, Peter changed quickly and stepped out to the gym. 

He ignored the light-headedness that seized him and walked to the nearest unoccupied treadmill. There was just enough space behind it to do his usual warm up. When he couldn’t drag it out any longer, he stepped onto the machine. Despite his nerves though, he figured it out pretty smoothly. He selected a basic program and started running. It felt different from what he was used to. Not moving or at least not going anywhere felt weird but the lack of shadowy patches and sneaky puddles on his track was a welcome improvement. Peter normally didn't listen to anything while running but in the gym, he had np choice. The music blasting from the loudspeakers seemed too loud when he first stepped into the hall, but by the time he started his exercise, it blurred together with the noises of the different equipment and the general chatter until it became easy to ignore. 

Peter soon found himself staring almost blindly at a spot in front of him while mentally conjuring one of his usual tracks. The realisation sent an unpleasant shot of arousal through his system, much like missing a step and he nearly tripped and fell. Grabbing the handle of the treadmill Peter chided himself. The last thing he wanted was an injury and he preferred to avoid making a fool of himself by an accident. His heart still beating heavily, he slowly managed to control his breathing and to find his rhythm again.

His heartbeat had barely had time to slow down though, when he was surprised again. Someone was talking to him. Peter's head jerked around, and he could feel himself blush when he glimpsed a handsome man on the treadmill to his right. Were the members of this gym handpicked to make his knees weak? He really needed to get a grip on his sorry single ass. Not that way… That way, too, but not now. Ugh. Answer… He needed to answer. 

"Didn't catch that, sorry," he got out, slowing the treadmill a little bit as his cheeks burnt even hotter. 

The man flashed a dazzling grin at him. "No worries. I was just saying that you're new here." When Peter didn't reply, he went on. "But you don't look like a beginner," he said, nodding towards the screen on Peter's machine showing the distance he's already covered. "Cold weather chased you inside?" 

"Yes," Peter admitted, his smile unbidden. He didn't know how he felt about being figured out this easily, but the guy’s friendliness was making him feel welcome. "Do you come here often?" 

"Can't you tell?" the man asked, flexing his biceps jokingly.

Peter gaped then turned away, his cheeks positively flaming now.

"Oh, don't mind me, I’m not hitting on you,” the man assured. “My better half is right there."

He pointed and Peter slowly followed his hand, bracing himself for another too-hot-to-be-true person. And he was right to do so. Over at the weight machines, he glimpsed an incredibly ripped blond man. He was working out on a leg push and the muscles of his thighs, each almost as wide as Peter's waist, were glistening from sweat. Peter had to look away. Instead, he blinked and stared some more.

"Do you like him?" The blond man's partner asked from next to Peter. 

He jerked out of his daze and blushed some more. At this point, he was wondering how he was managing to run at all with all his blood colouring his face. 

"He's um…" he started but the man spared him. 

"He's started out skinnier than you."

"What?" Peter exclaimed, eyes darting back involuntarily to the huge form of the other man. 

"I have photos," his fellow runner promised, laughing. 

"Wow," was all Peter managed to reply. 

"So, are you thinking about toning that pretty form of yours some more?" The man inquired after a few moments. 

Peter could feel his eyes on him, and he cursed himself for being aroused even by an appraising and probably critical look from another man. Before he could have summoned an answer though someone else cut it. 

"No flirting with the newbie, Winter," a pretty red-haired woman chided. "Run those miles," she added more sternly. "And welcome to Iron Man," she addressed Peter with a smile. 

She barely waited for Peter to acknowledge her words though before moving on. Peter caught the man next to him rolling his eyes and when the woman stepped farther away, he spoke again. 

"It's not us who you should be careful around," he advised. This time, he didn't point, but Peter could easily follow his gaze across the room. When his eyes landed on the older man he'd met earlier, he could only pray that his gasp wasn't audible. He might have lost track of time again, though he didn't think so. In any case, by the time he turned back to Winter, the man was standing in front of his treadmill. 

"My names Bucky by the way. Only Natasha calls me Winter." 

"Peter," he offered. 

"See you around, Peter. Take care of yourself." 

Peter was left wondering if Bucky's choice of words was intentional. He couldn't help glancing towards the older man one more time before he increased his pace. He seemed to be a trainer, too. After meeting Nat, Peter recognised the uniform red top they were both wearing and as he started running his last mile for the day, his mind were filled with images of those strong hands correcting his posture as he executed an exercise, those handsome features lighting up in a rewarding smile and those muscles glistening with water in the showers…

Sometime later, as Peter was standing in the entrance hall, back in his regular clothes and putting on his coat, he proclaimed his first visit to the gym a success. Not because he ran 7 miles at 8 minutes per mile – he could do better than that – but because he managed not to pop a boner while he was among sweaty, ripped and possibly gay man, not even while talking to one, checking out another or fantasising about a third. Even though he groaned at himself inwardly, Peter couldn't help grinning as he stepped out into the chilly night. He didn't try to pinpoint all the emotions coursing through his system. He chalked it all up to runner's high and enjoyed the way they warmed him against the cold air. 

By next morning though, there was no denying that at least part of his excitement about his first gym trip was due to something other than the beneficial health effects of exercise. When Peter woke with a raging hard on, he could have sworn he was dreaming about tan skin and salt and pepper hair. He cringed at himself but there was no way he wasn't getting off that morning. As he palmed his already wet cock, he let his mind conjure images of wide arms and muscles flexing as they wrapped around his body, holding him against a chiselled chest. He could almost feel the heat coming from the ripped body behind him and he whimpered as he imagined that goatee scratching his jaw as the man kissed him. Peter came with a gasp and the only reason he forgave himself for not lasting longer was the fact that he was running a bit late.

That week, Peter returned to the gym two more times. He calculated that a three times per week routine was probably going to be affordable for him all through winter. Plus, he wanted to pace himself. Starting too hard and dropping out fast wasn't what he was aiming for. His confidence about his well-thought out training plan wavered however when he first talked to Steve Rogers. He was Bucky's boyfriend, the huge blond guy who, according to more than one people, had once been skinnier than Peter.

"So, what's your training plan?" The man asked and despite his kind and curious tone Peter started to feel stupid in an instant. _'Not quitting'_ certainly didn't count as a plan among these people. 

"Um…" 

"Are you training for a certain length?" Steve suggested helpfully. 

"No." Peter shook his head. "I just don't want to break the habit I managed to build up," he admitted sheepishly. It was true and if it wasn't good enough for his new mates then well, he didn't have to answer to anyone. 

"You are doing really well," Steve assured him. 

"Really?" Peter looked up hopefully. 

"Yes. We've all been there, struggling with motivation. That's what gym buddies are for," he added, winking at Peter. 

Peter sagged with relief. 

"Still, a plan can't hurt," Natasha advised.

"That's true," Steve admitted. "Have you considered building some muscle over the winter?" 

"I wonder what would happen to you if you didn't try to convince everyone to get ripped," a new voice put in. Peter could literally hear the speaker rolling his eyes. When he turned to look, he nearly fell off his chair. It was _the man_. That man. The older handsome one. And before Peter knew, he was joining them at the bar, drawing up a chair right next to him. Fuck. His chest felt tight and his limbs went numb. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. When the man flashed him a grin, he almost passed out. 

"As if you didn't convince people to get ripped for a living, Stark," Natasha scoffed. 

The man's smile widened, and he looked utterly unfazed. 

"So, are you interested?" He asked and if his words weren't enough to fry Peter's brain, the way he turned towards him bodily, elbow propped onto the back of his chair, legs wide apart almost caging him certainly did the trick.

He stared at the man, barely seeing him. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. 

"Um, what?" he managed then proceeded to profusely curse himself. 

He was talking to this half god who was giving him his full attention making every nerve ending in Peter's body fire at once. He’d never felt more awake and yet he couldn't get his brain to produce just a slightly more attractive response than _'um, what'_. How was that fair? Peter groaned inwardly but then the man laughed, and everything was wiped from his mind. His rational part was bellowing at him to pay attention but in the haze that settled in his head it was barely more than a faint echo. Peter struggled to follow its advice though and through his thumping heart, he managed to make out the words leaving those perfect lips.

"Do you want to get… you know, ripped?" 

Peter was at serious risk of uttering the most ridiculous sound ever to be heard and even if he managed to rein that it, he was still going to explode. His throat too tight, he tried to form words. Words that weren't ‘ _Yes please, I want to get ripped by you’_. 

"Why not? Not… Not like Steve, though," he joked, flashing an apologetic smile at Rogers before glancing hopefully at the man.

He was a few heartbeats late to join in the laughter that broke out at Peter's answer. When he did, Peter sagged with relief. 

"No," the man said, contemplating Peter. "We wouldn't want you to be anything like Steve Rogers." 

Peter wasn't sure what he needed more: the man to blink and give him a break or him never to turn his gaze away from him. The unfamiliar sensations that spread inside him by every second that he spent under those beautifully shaped warm brown eyes were compelling. He smiled. That, at least, was easy. So much so that his cheeks were beginning to hurt by the time he registered that they weren't alone and that he was being very carefully watched by two sets of serious eyes. Steve was glaring at the man, but Bucky and Nat were looking at him. Peter avoided their gaze and shifted in his seat. 

Suddenly, his stomach churned. Of course, it was too good to be true. What was he thinking? This man, Stark, was convincing people to train with him _for a living_. For money. 

"Um," he began, addressing his knees. "I don't think I…" What was he, an idiot? Was he going to admit to being poor? He should have rerouted and found an excuse, but before he could come up with anything, the man spoke. 

"How about I give you an introductory lesson for free so that you can see if you enjoy it." 

Peter gaped then nodded trying to contain his excitement. He learnt that his efforts were in vain when he glimpsed himself in the changing room mirrors five minutes later. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated like he was high as a kite and a giddy smile was tugging incessantly at the corner of his mouth. He gave in and grinned at himself, unable to breathe properly and breaking out in sweat that had nothing to do with the vapour coming from the showers.

Peter heaved a shaking sigh and went to his locker. He hadn't showered before joining the others at the bar but since his hair dried in the meantime, he decided to skip it for now. He'd be more comfortable at home anyway. No chance of anyone catching him while touching himself. He blushed and tried to suppress the idea, but it didn't work. Once he was dressed in his regular clothes, he pulled out his phone and checked his calendar. The training session he scheduled with Tony was really there. Peter's heart skipped a beat and he pocketed his phone as if by staring at it he risked that entry magically disappearing. 

On his way out, Peter looked around. He told himself that he wouldn’t, but he couldn't resist. He returned Natasha's wave, but his eyes didn't linger on her. He just needed to see if Tony Stark was there. Well, it was unnecessary, really, since Peter recognised the sensation those piercing eyes gave him. Still, he wanted to make sure. When he glimpsed the man, Peter couldn’t hide his smile. Tony was watching him from behind a bench where he was spotting someone. He smirked at Peter before returning his attention to the person on the bench. Peter needed a deep breath to regain control over his limbs. He shook his head, slipped on his coat and walked out of the gym. 

As he started to walk towards the nearest corner, Peter grinned again. He was still so full of excitement. He almost stepped off the pavement at a green light when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It made Peter jump and he needed a minute to recognise Bucky in the darkness. 

"You just walk past a friend like that?" he teased. 

"I didn't see you," Peter admitted. 

"Mind if I walk down the block with you?" 

Peter shook his head, wondering what this might be about. The simplest explanation was of course that Bucky lived in the neighbourhood. People tended to choose services nearby, Peter reasoned as they waited for the traffic light to change again. 

Bucky broke the silence when they reached the other side.

"He doesn't schedule sessions for the next day." 

His tone was light, as if he were stating a fact. Why did it sting so badly then? Why did it make Peter blush? 

“I know,” he nodded, carefully keeping the defensive edge out of his voice. 

“It’s okay that you like him," Bucky offered. "Many people do.”

Peter's stomach did a backflip and he nearly tripped up and fell. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now Bucky knows that he likes Tony and… _‘And?’_ Another part of him asked. Bucky was not making fun of him. In fact, he was quite reassuring. Peter swallowed hard in an attempt to push the sickening shame down. He didn't succeed as well as he had hoped. 

“Is this the part where you gently bring it to my attention that I stand no chance?” He asked, apparently unable to keep his hurt feelings at bay. 

Bucky scoffed. “What?!”

“I’m not stupid, okay?” Peter insisted. “Nat said it, but I knew it before. It’s his job to convince people to train with him. And I bet it’s a very competitive job.”

Bucky kept silent but Peter could feel his gaze on himself.

“What?” he turned towards him more annoyed with the man than he had any right to be.

“Peter,” Bucky began, and it was offending how much he sounded like someone preparing to explain one plus one equals two to a toddler. “Do you really think that Tony Stark gave you an appointment for tomorrow for the prospect of money?”

Peter felt stupid. Obviously, Bucky thought that the answer was _no_ , but Peter couldn’t see any other reason. Well, he _could see_ them in his mind’s eyes, but those were fantasies and wet dreams and he wouldn’t embarrass himself by admitting them aloud.

“Tony Stark owns Iron Man. No offense, but he really doesn’t need a college student’s pocket money,” Bucky explained.

“Okay, but-” Peter began without processing Bucky’s words. Then it hit him. “He _owns_ the place?”

His question was rhetorical. He heard Bucky the first time, which was quite lucky because the second time he was deafened by an internal chorus of Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God…

“You here, Petey?” Bucky nudged him gently with his elbow, his hands tucked into his pockets against the cold.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.” He glanced at Bucky. “Um, I guess at this point there’s no denying that I um-”

Bucky spared him of the awkward confession.

“Like I said, it’s okay. You are not alone. And that’s the thing.”

“Is he really bad?” Peter asked dejectedly, still struggling to believe what Bucky was suggesting. That Tony Stark was interested in him.

“Not if you ask me. Steve would tell you otherwise.” Bucky let that hang between them without any explanation. Peter was just opening his mouth to ask for details when the other went on. “Just don’t catch feelings. For your own good."

Peter gulped and nodded even though his eyes were burning, and his chest ached. He hoped that Bucky couldn't tell, but if his silence was any indication, he might have had suspicions. How big an idiot was Peter? Was he so stupid for real? He didn't even know the man. How could he feel so… so strongly already? Was it just his ego? He needed time to think. But even more than that, he wanted to escape. He wanted to pull the covers over his head and fall asleep. In his dreams at least he didn't risk being stupid. What he certainly didn't want was an audience to his agony. He glanced to the side. Bucky was still there, but he wasn't staring at him. Was he going to walk Peter all the way home? And why wasn't he home yet anyway? They'd been walking for so long. 

"Fuck!" Peter exclaimed, looking around. 

"What is it?" Bucky asked. 

Peter couldn't possibly tell him. Let the ground swallow him whole before he admitted that that he'd forgotten his way home because he was too busy worrying about Tony Stark liking his sorry ass. He halted in his steps and buried his face in his hands, groaning. 

"Did you forget something?" Bucky asked. 

_‘Yeah, where I live’_ , Peter thought angrily. He looked up at the man next to him. 

"I er… Yeah. I just remembered that I have to drop by a friend's place tonight before I go home." 

"Oh." Bucky nodded but Peter suspected that he didn't quite believe him. 

"Okay, so I forgot to take a turn home… Like three blocks ago," he confessed, throwing his arms up.

"Oh," Bucky said again.

Peter quickly turned his gaze away during his confession, but then he ventured to look back. Bucky's expression was commiserating. They stood in silence for a few seconds before Peter spoke again.

“I’ll head home from here. You don’t need to come with me.”

He didn’t want to inconvenience Bucky anymore. Obviously, his warning about feelings was a tad late.

“Hey, Peter!” Bucky called.

Peter was so busy hating himself that he barely noticed that the other man was still by his side.

“There’s no telling how things will pan out. I warned you, okay, but that’s not saying I don’t wish you luck.”

Fuck, he was explaining himself. Peter groaned inwardly. Bucky just wanted to be friendly and now he’s the one feeling uncomfortable.

“You don’t need to make me feel better. I get it, okay?” He said, wishing that he could be alone.

“Okay,’ Bucky nodded. “Whatever happens, you can talk to me,” he assured.

“Thanks,” Peter replied. “Are you going back to the gym?”

Bucky shook his head after checking his phone.

“No. Steve headed home already. I’ll catch a cab.”

Peter nodded.

They kept walking in silence for a few minutes. Peter’s head was buzzing. There was a chance that Tony Stark was interested in him. Sexually. ‘Cause yeah, there was no mistaking Bucky’s implication. At least, when he talked about how Tony usually were. Peter was still having a hard time believing that the older man could have singled _him_ out that way, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Well… He wasn’t about to complain, no, but if he was completely honest, the… promise? prospect? the _possibility_ of something sexual happening between them didn’t fill him with the sort of excitement he imagined. He was reluctant to pay attention to the sensation, but the dull ache in his chest was impossible to ignore. Was he really so hopeless? He went against his own self-interest by picking the more expensive gym just because it said _gay-friendly_. And not only was he unable to suppress his foolish hopes, he went and fell for Tony Stark. 

There were so many things wrong with that that Peter didn’t even know where to begin. The man was at least twenty years older than him. Why would he have looked twice at him? Well, to fuck him, obviously, but nothing else. He owned the fucking place. He must have been well off… rich, even. What would he have wanted from a college student who couldn’t even afford a premium subscription at his gym? Who was skinny and awkward and yeah, he was smart, but he was also certain that biochemistry wasn’t a good talking point with someone who owned a gym. Not that he thought that bodybuilders were dumb, but traditionally athletes and geeks didn’t mix well.

“Ground control to Peter,’ he heard Bucky calling out to him.

He jumped and looked at the man.

“You said three blocks. Isn’t this where you take a right?’

Oh, shit. It was. Peter could feel his cheeks turn crimson.

“Um, yes, thank you,” he mumbled.

There it was again, that commiserating expression on Bucky’s face.

“Hey, um,” the man began, “don’t beat yourself up, okay? We don’t get to decide who we are attracted to.”

“It would save us a lot of embarrassment, if we did,” Peter grumbled.

Bucky threw his head back as he laughed.

“That’s for sure. If you have very much free time, ask Steve about how we got together and be prepared to cringe _a lot_.”

Peter couldn’t decide whether Bucky was telling the truth or exaggerating to make him feel better, but he accepted it readily. He grinned at the man, some of the weight lifting from his chest.

“Thank you,” he said and held out his hand.

Bucky chuckled and pulled Peter into a hug. It was nice, but Peter wished it was over, because he found it harder and harder to suppress his tears by every passing second.

“Like I said, don’t beat yourself up,” Bucky told him again before letting go.

Peter nodded but avoided his gaze for fear of his glossy eyes giving his emotions away.

“Do you live far from here?’

Peter shook his head.

“Only five minutes.”

“Have a good night then. And good luck for tomorrow.”

Peter groaned, a wave of panic surging up inside him.

“Thanks.” It was a miracle that he could speak. “You too.”

Apparently, running five miles, then walking another two in the chilly night air plus taking at least three rides on a crazy emotional roller coaster that day were enough to knock Peter out. He found his flatmate in the living room, watching something on Netflix. He seemed engrossed in it, and Peter was grateful for not being asked about his day. He slumped on a chair in the kitchen and heated up some of the leftover chicken and rice. God, was he becoming such a gym person? He made a mental note to eat some junk food later that week. Not the next day, though because he didn’t want to risk anything going wrong during his session with Tony. Peter groaned and fought to stir his thoughts away from the subject.

He ended up getting a beer from the fridge and joined Jake on the sofa.

“Long day?” he asked without looking at Peter.

“Hmmphf,” Peter answered through a mouthful of rice.

His flatmate didn’t push it. They watched the show in silence and Peter stayed until the end of the episode. His beer kicked in just enough to make his exhausted limbs turn to led and he excused himself during the end credits. Jake waved a hand towards him, busy hitting play on the next episode.

Peter showered quickly, then changed into his pyjamas, carefully avoiding his reflection in the full-length mirror. He didn’t want to wonder about what caught Tony Stark’s attention. The mere thought of meeting the man fully clothed the next day was enough to make his stomach drop, let alone thinking about him naked. Any of them naked… Or both.

Peter groaned and hurried to his room. He didn’t feel ready for tomorrow at all. In fact, the gaping hole in the middle of his chest reminded him quite acutely of hopelessness. He decided not to dwell on it. He got into bed and pulled the covers over his head. He still had a solid seven hours to sleep. He had lab practice the next morning that at least promised to require every last ounce of his attention, thus preventing him from overthinking his meeting with Tony. He only had seven hours to get through first… Peter connected his phone to its charger and hit play on his favourite sleeping playlist on Spotify.

The next morning, he was surprisingly well-rested. He didn’t recall thrusting in bed for hours and even though he woke with a hollow feeling in chest, indicating a not-too-pleasant dream, he didn’t remember anything in particular. He enjoyed a quick shower and an even quicker breakfast. He needed the time to select the best training outfit – not that he would ever admit it. He didn’t have too many options, but he still took his time thinking about it. Eventually, he went with a pair of blue shorts with a wide red stripe at the side and a matching blue T-shirt that would have been tight fitted if Peter had had muscles to fill it. As things stood however, it hung a bit loosely on him. Though he would have liked his chances better if he sported a chiselled chest, under the circumstances Peter hoped that the loose tee would serve to drive Tony’s attention to the parts of his body that he was prouder of.

When he glanced at his alarm clock, Peter’s heart nearly stopped. He had two minutes to get dressed and be on his way. After its frantic start, the rest of his morning passed in a blur. He had what seemed to be anticipatory flashbacks to his workout session with Tony. They occurred whenever he had a few free minutes and remembered what he was going to do that afternoon. The horrible feeling that accompanied them suggested that the session had already happened and went very very wrong. Fortunately, he was so busy that these unpleasant tricks of his mind were few and far between. Even though it took considerably more effort than usual, Peter was able to focus on his lab work and he even managed to scribble a few notes at the lecture he attended afterwards.

By the time he got to the gym, Peter could barely walk from nerves. His heart was pounding in his throat and his knees threatened to give way every step he took. He heaved a steadying breath before opening the door, but its effects didn’t last long. Tony Stark was leaning against the reception table, conversing easily with a girl Peter never met before. Once he entered though, the man’s eyes shot to him immediately.

“Peter,” he greeted with a dazzling smile. “You made it.”

Peter nodded, feeling the desperate need to hold on to something. How could he have not made it? He had a chance to meet Tony Stark in person. To see him up close. To talk to him and spend one on one time with him. There weren’t many things that Peter wouldn’t have gladly sacrificed to seize such an opportunity, but he wasn’t going to say that aloud.

“Oh, and you still have plenty of time to get changed. Good. Run along now.”

_‘Good.’_ Or was it _‘good boy’_? God, Peter only wished. Still, Tony’s praise did things to Peter that he never experienced outside of the bedroom before. The jolt of arousal that shot through his system felt like fire, scorching him from the inside and leaving him pliant and ready. Ready for things that weren’t going to happen during his first body building workout. Nor during any other workout, if he was being realistic. But the thing is, at the moment, he wasn’t. He didn’t want to be. He wanted Tony Stark to follow him into the changing room, shove down his pants and fuck him right then and there. Dizzy, his blood rushing to his cock, Peter could barely walk straight as he approached the changing rooms.

Once inside, he collapsed on the bench and rubbed his face. This wouldn’t do. They haven’t even talked yet. Tony merely spoke three sentences to him and there Peter was, squeezing the base of his cock to prevent himself from getting fully erect. He should have picked a pair of baggy shorts paired with an oversized T-shirt that covered his crotch. Silently cursing himself and praying to whoever was listening that he could keep his body under control during the workout.

After he changed, Peter checked himself out in the mirror that covered the only free wall of the changing room. The first thing that caught his attention was how dishevelled he looked. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and even though he wasn’t exactly satisfied with the result, at least he didn’t look like someone who’d just gotten out of bed anymore. Not that that couldn’t be appealing, but he didn’t want Tony to think that he’d just gotten out of bed with someone else. Not that he would… Ugh, Peter was a mess, but eventually his determination to keep impressing Tony with his punctuality won over the urge to spend more time in front of the mirror checking then double checking every minor detail about his appearance.

When he stepped out and looked around, Peter already felt Tony’s gaze on him. It had the usual effect of sending his basic vital functions haywire, but Peter seemed to be getting practiced in maintaining both his attention and motor coordination in the man’s presence.

“Hello again,” Tony said, when he reached him.

“Hi,” Peter replied. His voice rung higher than he liked but at least it didn’t crack on that single syllable.

“Let’s start with warm up,” Tony gestured towards the treadmills, “and I’ll explain what I had in mind for today.”

“Okay,” Peter accepted.

“Start with 8 minutes of jogging,” Tony instructed.

Peter complied without question.

“We have about 90 minutes today,” Tony started. “I’ll show you a good warm up. You can vary it to fit your exercise of the day but if you have time, it works best if you do all of it.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter nodded.

Warm up. Starting with jogging, obviously. He liked it so far.

“You can pick cycling or the stepper as well.” Tony gestured towards the other machines lined up after the treadmills. “Then, we’ll warm up each muscle area that we are going to work today. Normally, you might want to focus on one or two muscle groups per workout, but I thought that I’d show you some basic exercises for each today. It’s a good way to assess your baseline as well, so we can set the right number or repetitions.”

“All right,” Peter agreed, relieved that his reaction time didn’t give away the total meltdown he was dealing with on the inside.

If his ridiculously handsome face wasn’t enough of a challenge to be around, there was also his voice. Rich and velvety, Peter wanted to hear it ordering him around and praising him when he obeyed without question. _Spread your legs. Bend over._ No, that wasn’t what Tony was telling him to do. Peter shook his head and focused. Oh, yes. They were talking about assessing Peter’s baseline performance. He hoped that it would be somewhat higher than his tolerance of the sheer sexual energy that was oozing from Tony Stark.

Even after Tony detailed each muscle group that they would cover that day, Peter still had three minutes left on the treadmill. It wasn’t a very long time by a runner’s standard, but when it came to spending it in awkward silence, it felt like eternity.

“It was very nice of you to schedule me so soon, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, once he’d summoned up his courage and practiced the sentence three times in his mind.

Tony quirked an eyebrow and watched Peter for a few seconds before answering.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, and Peter found himself physically aching for Tony to use that tone more often. “And please, call me Tony.”

“Uhm, all right, Tony,” Peter said with a sheepish smile.

He hoped that Tony chalked up the crimson colour of his cheeks to exertion, though the older man knew, just as well as he did, that he was way fitter than that.

"And what do you do, Peter?" Tony asked.

There they went, Peter thought. But if he wasn't ashamed of his modest workout goals, he certainly wasn't going to hide his passion for science.

"I'm studying biochemistry," he replied. He thought about his part time jobs but decided not to mention them. Tony must have guessed that he was working - - there weren't many students who didn't need to - - but Peter didn't want to talk about things that didn't really interest him.

"What branch? Not that I'm an expert. I'm more of a mechanical type. Time's up by the way."

For a few seconds the wires in Peter's mind got crossed and he found himself unable to execute the simple tasks of either stopping or talking. Tony was a mechanical type. He was interested in science and engineering! Could he get any more perfect? Peter was starting to believe that the man was custom made to make his heart skip a beat. Was he going to astonish him so many times that he would eventually die of a heart attack? He hoped not because he wanted to enjoy the man's company a lot more before that.

"Come on, Petey, I know you love running but it’s time to move on."

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled and stopped the treadmill.

Success! He managed to talk and move at the same time. Also, did Tony just called him Petey? No, he was absolutely not allowed to go there. He had just regained the use of his higher cortical functions. He couldn’t risk losing them again.

The rest of the warmup turned out to be a special kind of torture. It involved a foam roller and Tony kneeling close to Peter, instructing him in that irresistible voice again and touching him from time to time to adjust his position. It was lucky that the rolling itself was so unpleasant, otherwise Peter would have faced utter humiliation when he straightened up at the end of the last rep.

“I know that’s not the best part,” Tony empathised as they walked over to the chest press. “You haven’t told me about your field in Biochem,” he reminded Peter as he seated himself.

Was Peter supposed to be able to talk and pay attention to Tony demonstrating exercises at the same time? He didn’t think so, and obviously the older man agreed with him, for he didn’t start showing him how to use the machine until Peter answered him.

“I’m interested in cellular engineering and its surgical applications,” Peter opted for the short version. He didn’t want to go into the details of his motivations nor his research plan. That wasn’t something for a first date – which this completely wasn’t, of course – and anyway, he was dying to see Tony demonstrate the proper use of that machine.

“Impressive,” Tony replied, and Peter’s stomach fluttered at the genuine praise. “I’d love to hear more about it, but I guess you wouldn’t leave here satisfied if we spent all our time talking.”

Peter was opening his mouth to tell Tony just how wrong he was, when he caught himself. Judging by the smirk that appeared on the man’s face he didn’t miss it either.

“Anyway…” He went on as if nothing had happened. “This machine is called a chest press. It strengthens your upper and lower chest muscles, your triceps, and your anterior deltoid,” he explained, running his fingers along each muscle as he named them. “This is the correct posture. You want to keep your back straight and pressed against the back of the seat all the time. And watch your elbows,” he added as he repeated the exercise for a third time. “Wanna try?”

Peter nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

“You can adjust the weights here. Let’s try it with thirty pounds, shall we?” Tony said conversationally. Peter couldn’t see how much Tony was pressing but it must have been somewhere around his own bodyweight. He gulped. He didn’t need that image, but once it popped into his mind there was no unseeing it. Those arms that Peter had imagined wrapping around him so many times since he met the man now bulged with the effort of Tony lifting him. Did he say effort? Fuck, the man was able to hold a coherent conversation while pressing that weight with his fucking chest muscles. Was it bad that Peter wanted to lick and kiss those muscles? But that wasn’t why they were there… Wasn’t it though? A little voice at the back of his mind reminded him of Bucky’s warning. Peter gulped. 

He had to press. He did it and found that it was surprisingly easy. Tony must have read his expression correctly because he said:

“It won’t feel the same after the tenth rep of the second set.”

“I know,” Peter replied.

It still felt nice to be able to correctly execute an exercise. Well, almost, because just as he was pressing for the third time, Tony touched his elbow and lifted it a bit.

“Mind your elbow. You want it at this angle, otherwise you don’t work your muscles properly,” he explained.

Peter glanced up at him, then quickly thought better of it. It was one thing to be under those watchful eyes at some distance and a completely different story, meeting Tony’s gaze from up close.

“Do ten reps so you get the feel of it, then we move on to the next machine,” Tony told him, and Peter didn’t hesitate.

By the end of their workout Peter acquired basic knowledge of several resistance machines. Even though he was a quick learner, he had serious doubts about his retention of certain points of their lesson, especially those that involved Tony’s naked arms. Of course, Peter didn’t admit it when Tony asked him if he had any questions. Instead he thanked the man with a wide smile and tried not to faint when Tony laid a gentle hand at the small of his back to guide him towards the bar.

“Be a darling, Rocket, and whip up a shake for Peter, please.”

“What kind?”

“Hm, let me see… Is vanilla your flavour, Petey?”

Peter blinked and stared at the man. It felt immensely difficult to think, but Peter knew that he had to. He was being asked something. What was it? Vanilla. Peter liked vanilla. It was a nice flavour among many other nice flavours he’d tried in his life. What if that wasn’t what he was being asked about though? How could Peter answer then? Vanilla sex was the only sort of sex he had had, and it was delicious, but how could he know whether it was _his flavour_ before he’d tried other things? Was there a right answer here? Was Tony going to be turned off by his inexperience?

“Vanilla is fine,” he said, holding Tony’s gaze. Tony smirked and was about to turn to Rocket when Peter went on. He tilted his face innocently as he spoke and was glad to see that it caught Tony’s attention. “As is chocolate and strawberry, and many other flavours.”

“You’re perfectly right,” Tony allowed with a smile. “And you know, we only have the best of everything here,” he added, glancing towards the shelves behind the bar. “It’s your choice.”

Was it? Peter gasped. If Tony meant the innuendo on vanilla, he must have meant it this time, too. When Tony turned back to him and smiled, Peter sagged with relief.

“I think vanilla is good for me now,” he said.

“One vanilla shake coming right up,” Rocket said.

If Peter thought he saw the man rolling his eyes, he didn’t care, because there was no denying it: he was flirting with Tony Stark. And just then, the man was leaning closer to him.

“Come with me, I want to give you something else,” Tony told him.

This time, he didn’t touch Peter which was a pity just as much as it was blessing. Even though every last cell in his body craved Tony’s touch, Peter wasn’t sure that he could have taken the brush of those calloused fingers one more time without making a complete fool of himself by dropping to his knees and begging for Tony’s cock. Peter coughed softly, to hide his nervous giggle as well as his embarrassment.

He barely noticed where they were standing but the wave of cold air that reached him made him look around. They were at the reception and the chill was due to several people walking in together. Peter brought his hands up to his arms as he shivered.

“Sorry, it’s really cold here. I won’t keep you for long, you must ache for a hot shower by now. “And I have my next appointment. But first, this. I want you to have this,” Tony said, and he held out a golden card with the iron man emblem emblazoned on it in red. It was an all-inclusive premium card.

“I can’t accept it,” Peter blurted.

“I insist.”

“I really can’t,” Peter repeated, unsure why he was resisting.

“It’s a joy to watch you run, Peter, and I can tell that you do it more often than three times per week. It’s fine if you don’t want any more classes with me or won’t build an ounce of muscle. I still want you to have it.”

Peter opened his mouth to fight him, but the man’s smile was irresistible.

“It’s Christmas anyway,” Tony added.

“It isn’t Christmas yet,” Peter corrected, but he took the card. 

God, it wasn’t even Christmas yet and Tony was already showering him in gifts. His heart skipped a beat. Peter followed his finger as he ran it along the side of the card before he looked up to meet Tony’s eyes.

“Thank you, Tony,” he said. It was astonishing how much effort it took not to reach up and kiss the man. Peter looked away but not before he glimpsed the genuine joy in Tony’s eyes.

“And I would love to train with you,” he added, “but I can’t afford it regularly.”

“I don’t mind fitting you into my schedule pro bono,” Tony hurried to reassure him.

“I er…”

“Just accept it,” Tony winked. “You were doing so well with the card.”

Peter giggled and nodded. He couldn’t resist Tony's warmth and he didn't want to, not for real. 

“Fine,” he agreed. 

“Once a week?”

“Perfect.”

“Perfect,” Tony repeated, and Peter blushed as he felt the man’s gaze travel across his face.

When Bucky asked him the next day how things went with Tony, Peter looked away blushing as he remembered his euphoric walk home and his ecstatic masturbation resulting in multiple orgasms. And the feelings, the hot, fluttering, fulfilling feelings that washed over him in irresistible waves. 

"Not according to plan," he admitted, unable to suppress a giddy grin. 

Bucky eyed him with a smirk before speaking. 

"Well, the best plans are constantly adapted to the situation," he said in a serious tone.

They tried to keep it together for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. 

"You are head over heels, aren't you?" Bucky asked when they stopped. 

His voice held no accusation, so Peter met his gaze and nodded. 

"I hope it works out in the best possible way," Bucky said. 

The _'or else'_ that lingered after Bucky’s words filled Peter with gratitude for the man’s friendship, even if he wished it never came to that. To his surprise, even Steve was supportive. Not that he said anything, but Peter guessed that his lack of commentary was all the blessing he could have expected of Steve Rogers.

The following weeks passed in a heartbeat. Peter was making good use of the premium membership that Tony had gifted to him and returned to the gym almost every day. Sometimes he just ran, sometimes he did an hour of resistance workout. With Tony, they kept to the weekly schedule they agreed to but in reality, Peter could always feel Tony’s eyes on him. No matter who the older man was working with, the tell-tale tingling let Peter know that Tony was watching him. At first, Peter tried to pretend that he didn’t notice, but it was too hard to resist looking at the man. Sometimes, when he returned Tony’s gaze, Tony signalled to him to correct his stance. At other times they shared a quick smile and looked away. On the rarest occasions, they just held each other’s gaze until someone startled them out of their reverence.

Peter was very far gone. These days walking felt rather like floating and his chest was constantly filled with buoyant bubbles. May picked up on the change of his tone during a phone call even before Peter had learnt all the things about Tony that made him like the man even more. Ned and MJ caught on when Peter arrived late to their movie night and instead of apologising, he started on a barely coherent rant about what a perfect man Tony Stark was. Even though, Peter regretted the awkward situation later, he felt too happy to beat himself up, simply because it was true. Tony Stark was perfect.

Peter had learnt that he was an engineer who took on the family company at a very early age. He was burning the candle at both ends and if it wasn’t for the scandal that erupted when Tony came out, he might as well have been dead by then. Peter didn’t like to remember this part of their conversation. Tony told him about his obsessive attitude towards work and everything else in life, then about the booze and the drugs he used as a way to wind down. Despite the casual tone Tony used when he talked about all of it, Peter could barely resist the urge to hug him. While Tony had plenty of time to process, it was all new to Peter and he hated to hear that the man he came to like so much went through such a rough phase.

Then came the whole disgusting issue of the homophobic attacks against Tony. Peter’s stomach churned, whenever he remembered that part. It only got slightly better when Tony told him about the epiphany that the shitshow brought him. “The whole thing started because I wanted to feel good. It made me realise how rarely I felt good before,” Tony admitted, and even though it broke Peter’s heart, it also filled him with pride for the man who managed to turn his life around.

He created a safe place for himself then shared it with others. When gave up his self-destructive habits he didn't just replace then with more healthy looking ones. He worked out, but never obsessively, he ate well but never shot himself full of dangerous stuff. He educated himself in a whole new area without falling out of touch with his original passion (he told Peter about the workshop he had at home). Peter was fascinated whenever he got to hear Tony talk about himself, but those moments weren't as frequent as he would have loved them to be. Surprisingly, this just made Tony even better, because he listened. God, did he listen. His rapt attention was almost too much to bear but Peter got better at it each time they talked. Tony's interest in him felt so rewarding, but it didn't stop there. Despite claiming that he wasn't an expert, Tony was perfectly capable of holding a conversation about biochemistry when he coaxed Peter's research plan out of him. 

So, far as Peter was concerned, Tony Stark was perfect. Well, except for one tiny detail and even that was about Peter’s selfishness. Tony wanted to feel good. There was nothing more understandable and Peter supported him wholeheartedly. In fact, he couldn’t wait for them to start _feeling good_ together, and as the weeks passed, he started to see that as a pretty realistic possibility. If he was completely honest though, he would have been so much happier if it could turn into something more between them. While at first, Peter only saw a handsome face and a radiant personality, as he got to know the man, he became seriously interested. Although Peter never forgot the warning Bucky had given him, not catching feelings became a lost cause pretty fast. Keeping them under control however was still something that Peter needed to attempt. For his own good, just as Bucky said.

These were the thoughts that occupied Peter’s mind as he was walking towards the gym to his last training session with Tony before the holidays. He glanced at his reflection on the glass door before he entered. Giddy and forlorn were his two characteristic expressions over the last few weeks. That afternoon he was rather droopy. It wasn’t only that the chance of things going the way he wished them to go was very thin, it was also the fact that he probably won’t see Tony until the new year. They hadn’t discussed their plans, but as the owner of the place and a man who took care of himself, it would make sense for Tony to take a vacation. Peter sighed and entered the building.

The workout went well. It was a leg day and contrary to most people, Peter actually appreciated it. This day, he even wished that it could last longer so that he could spend some more time with Tony, but all too soon, they reached stretching. Usually, this part of the exercise soothed Peter’s nerves but that time too many emotions swirled inside him to relax. He was apprehensive of the prospect of missing Tony for weeks, yet hopeful about some sort of development in their relationship before the separation. After all, this was the last chance they got to properly talk to each other before the holidays.

Tony didn’t seem to think much about it though. He took out his phone as they were walking towards the changing room and checked it. He looked up with a smile and fortunately didn’t notice the probably desperate expression Peter wore as he was eyeing him.

“Our next appointment would fall to Christmas Day,” Tony told him. “So, how determined are you?”

Peter laughed.

“Very, but a closed gym is enough to hold me back.”

“What if it was open?” Tony suggested.

“Then I’d love to come,” Peter replied, still not taking Tony seriously.

“Good.” Tony smiled. “Then see you at 4 p.m., if it’s okay for you.”

“Wait, what?” Peter gaped.

“It’ll be less crowded,” Tony winked. “And why break our schedule? If you aren’t otherwise engaged, then it’s fine.”

“But… But what about you?” Peter blurted, eyes still wide.

“If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t have offered,” Tony said, touching Peter’s shoulder carefully.

The moment of contact between them was brief but it was enough to melt Peter's brain. He blushed crimson and had no idea where to look. Then, his by then well-oiled autopilot kicked in and he started to speak. 

"Thank you, Tony," he heard himself saying. 

"Petey-" God, Peter loved when Tony called him that. "You've got to stop thanking me. I keep telling you that it's my pleasure." 

Peter made the mistake of making eye contact with the man and then he found himself unable to look away. What would have been an appropriate reply to that? Once again, his mind was proving utterly useless, coming up with ideas like kissing Tony or dropping to his knees. Peter shook his head to clear it from those images and Tony must have mistook his expression.

“Peter,” he started, his playful tone gone. “Hey, Peter? I don’t want to push anything, okay? It’s your call, you can say no, you can change your mind, you can bail on me, it’s your decision.”

“I wouldn’t bail on you,” Peter blurted, horrified.

Tony smiled. “I know. Because you are a sweetheart. Did you get the rest of the message, too?”

Peter huffed out an embarrassed laugh and nodded.

“Loud and clear.”

“Good,” Tony said, and Peter wished… He didn’t even know anymore what to wish for.

Shaking his head once more, he smiled at Tony and gestured towards the changing rooms.

“Sure, go on. You did really well today.”

“Thanks,” Peter breathed.

“Your vanilla shake will be waiting,” Tony added with a wink as he walked away.

Peter wasn’t sure if his _‘Thank you’_ was audible. His head was spinning, and his heart was ready to break his ribs. He had just scheduled a private workout session with Tony. A more private than usual private session. He needed to sit down. Tony hinted at pleasure and god the way he kept smiling at Peter… And he said that it was Peter’s choice. And that meant that there would be well, a decision to make. It made him dizzy and excited, but as the implications sank in, his stomach dropped. He got to decide what was going to happen between them, but if sex was all Tony wanted from him, could he do it? Do it and not be heartbroken afterwards? Tony didn’t make any promises about the morning after. They were only Peter’s desires and managing them was his responsibility. Could he do it?

Peter stayed under the hot spray of the sower for a long time. He was getting exhausted by the highs and lows of this… _thing_ going on between them. Between them or inside his head? Peter wasn’t sure anymore. He needed to stop thinking. At least, he needed to stop spiralling. He closed the tap, dried himself, dressed and after several deep breaths, managed to plaster an almost genuine smile to his face as he left the changing rooms.

Tony wasn’t anywhere in sight, but at the moment Peter didn't mind. It allowed him to drink his protein shake without risking choking on it. 

Over the course of the next week Peter returned to the gym two more times. He wanted to go more often but he had tons of schoolwork and between that and his newfound enthusiasm for workouts, he kept putting off Christmas shopping. After three sleepless nights spent tossing around in bed and trying to come up with not clichéd gift ideas for May and his friends, the shopping tour itself seemed the lesser part of the challenge. Still, the eve of Christmas Eve found Peter collapsing onto his bed, utterly exhausted.

As he went to sleep that night, Peter decided two things. First, that under no circumstances' would he bail on Tony on Christmas Day. Second, that any other questions about their meeting could wait until that very same day. His resolution mostly worked and helped him to a surprisingly stress-free day at work, then a more than enjoyable evening at May’s place. They played cards and snacked on Christmas cookies before dinner, then watched mashup videos of Christmas movies on YouTube.

May politely waited until after Peter had finished his second glass of wine to ask him about his love interest. Peter nearly choked at the wording but didn’t correct his aunt.

“We are meeting tomorrow, actually,” he admitted. “I was meaning to tell you. Only in the afternoon, though, so it doesn’t disturb our plans,” he hurried to add.

“Oooh, a Christmas date. It sounds pretty good, isn’t it?” May enthused and once more, Peter couldn’t bring himself to correct her.

“Yes, he is really nice,” he agreed.

When May pulled him into a hug, he had to swallow hard to hold back his tears.

“You won’t get away with not telling me more about him after that though, you know that right?” May teased him.

Peter laughed, even though his eyes were cloudy.

The rest of the evening passed without further dangerous questions and Peter was happy to find that even his own mind was leaving him alone. He had no idea how it was possible, when it kept bombarding him with images of Tony every 5 seconds for the past five weeks, but he wasn’t about to complain. He spent the night at May’s in his old room and after the exhaustion of the past week, he finally slept soundly. 

The next morning, however, every question and worry that he’d been putting off, returned in force and Peter was so distracted during their outing, that May shooed him home before they even reached their destination. Embarrassed as he was about it, Peter took his chance and changed course towards his apartment. He decided to get off the subway early and walk home, hoping that he could figure some things out on the way. This seemed to work, though arriving to the conclusion that he should prepare for all eventuality didn’t really seemed like a decision.

Still, Peter did exactly that. His best option seemed to be a bath. He rarely afforded the luxury, but if any situation warranted it, it was the current one. After some deliberation, he decided to clean himself inside and out. Maybe it was going overboard, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Somehow, the hours he had until it was time to leave flew by and Peter found himself at the front door with his backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder. With a deep sigh, he stepped out.

To Peter’s surprise, their private workout session turned out to be just that: a workout session. Though he felt sort of embarrassed for all the preparation he did, he ignored it and enjoyed the time that he got to spend with Tony. It was amazing to have the whole place just for the two of them, and for a change, Tony didn’t just instruct Peter and demonstrate exercises, but actually joined him throughout the workout.

“Thanks for today,” he said once they were back in the changing rooms (and over the tricky part of showering).

“I had a great time,” Tony replied.

Peter had successfully avoided looking at him ever since they undressed and went into the showers, but there was no escaping it now. With a fortifying breath, he turned towards the man and returned his smile.

“Actually,” Tony went on, “I was thinking, why end it now?” Peter thought he misheard. “But I can’t take you out to dinner if you are so stiff,” Tony said frowning, slipping his hands onto Peter’s shoulders.

“What?” Peter blurted, whipping around and staring at the man.

Tony was opening his mouth to answer but then Peter spoke again quite without meaning to.

“But…”

“Only if you want to come,” Tony cut in.

“Yes,” Peter said immediately. He could not leave any doubt about that. “Yes, I want to.”

Tony smiled.

“I’m glad. But first we need to get that stiffness out of your muscles.”

“You are cruel, you know that, right?” Peter groaned.

He didn’t have the patience for more exercising when he was going on a date with Tony Stark. He was going on a date with Tony Stark!

“I think you’ll change your mind about that,” Tony said with a wolfish grin. “This special exercise is highly effective,” Tony promised him. “It never failed to leave me all relaxed and satisfied.”

Fuck. Tony was talking about some workout, but the words he used… Peter was powerless against his rich voice anytime, let alone when Tony used words like satisfaction.

“Please,” Peter heard himself uttering in an embarrassingly desperate voice.

“Oh, Petey,” Tony breathed and cupped his cheek.

Peter’s knees gave out, but Tony’s arm was there to pull him against the man and hold him steadily. Before Peter knew, Tony’s lips were a mere inch from his. The man waited but Peter couldn't. He closed the distance between them and moaned into their kiss. 

When Tony ran his hand up his back to pull him closer, Peter realised that he’d already wasted several precious seconds that he could have spent touching Tony. He moved instantly, but he was too lost in their kissing to think about what he was doing. His hand landed on Tony’s upper arm and Peter groaned. It felt even better than he imagined.

Just as he placed his other hand on the back of Tony’s head, the man broke the kiss. Peter panicked and meant to pull away, but Tony caught his hand and brought it to his face.

“I wanted to do this for so long,” Tony confessed.

Peter stared at him, wondering if he was awake or had been dreaming the whole thing.

“Me too.”

Tony was looking at him with so much warmth that Peter couldn’t resist kissing him again. This time, Tony opened his mouth for him. Peter let out a surprised sound but didn’t hesitate before flicking his tongue out and licking his way along Tony’s lips. When the man met him, Peter whimpered. Tony Stark was _delicious_.

This time, it was Peter who pulled back.

“The exercise...” he panted.

“Mmm, you are such a dutiful boy,” Tony praised, pushing a few stray locks back from Peter’s forehead.

“No, no, I wanted to say that we should skip it,” Peter admitted, even though Tony’s praise was the best thing in the world.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll want to skip it once we begin,” Tony told him again.

“Nnhgn.” Peter couldn’t be more coherent. He wanted to protest, wanted to say fuck stretching, but Tony was using that intoxicating tone that Peter couldn’t refuse.

“Come on,” Tony urged and turned Peter towards the mirror.

Peter gasped and blushed furiously. His lips were bright red, his gaze unfocused and his erection unmistakable. He stared at the older man’s reflection and even though he saw him stepping closer, his breath still hitched when he felt Tony flush against his back. Tony brought his hands to Peter’s deltoids and massaged him for a few seconds before running his palms down his arms.

“Baby,” Tony called softly. “I need you to keep your eyes open. How else could you memorise this workout?”

Peter nodded meekly, unable to form words as he felt Tony’s fingers linking with his own. The man seemed satisfied because he pressed a light kiss behind Peter’s ear.

“Now, raise your arms,” he instructed, moving with Peter, still holding his hands. “And cross it. Yeah, now bend the other one yes, that’s it. Hold it. Mm, can you feel it?”

Peter guessed that Tony meant the stretching, but all he could pay attention to was the gentle press of the man’s erection against his ass. He whimpered and ducked his head.

“Shh, you are doing fine, baby,” Tony told him, and it made Peter moan. 

He needed that, more than he realised. He needed Tony to touch him and call him baby and praise him…

“Please,” Peter begged.

“Okay, okay, we’ll do the other side, too,” Tony acquiesced and just for a second Peter hated him.

It didn’t last long though because the sensation of Tony’s broad chest and strong arms enveloping him felt too good to allow room to anything other than pure pleasure. Plus, the stretching was working its wonders as well.

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter breathed, meeting the man’s eyes in the mirrors.

“Thank you, Peter,” Tony replied, lowering their arms, but still holding Peter’s hands.

“Now, we need to stretch your back, too,” Tony said with a mischievous smile after a beat. “Back pain is the worst, and I would hate for it to ruin our dinner.”

While he talked, Tony slipped his hands to Peter’s hips, stealing his breath away.

“Bend over, baby. Try and reach your ankle.”

Peter’s mind short-circuited. Tony’s words were literally his dream come true. Though a bit afraid of tripping over because of how dizzy he felt, Peter complied without hesitation. He keened when he felt Tony’s right slip from is hip to his spine. The man ran his palm along it a few times, his left holding Peter in place with a steady grip on his hip.

“Good boy,” Tony praised.

Peter answered with a moan and Tony rewarded him by adjusting himself so that his erection pressed right against the cleft of Peter’s ass.

“Hold it for a bit longer, Petey,” Tony told him, rocking his hips slowly, rubbing his cock between Peter’s ass cheeks.

Breathing wasn’t easy while bent double, but Peter still found enough oxygen in his lungs to keen and moan at Tony’s every move.

“Come on up, baby,” Tony called sometime later. “Careful. That’s it, I’ve got you.”

Peter felt dizzy but Tony’s arms that wrapped around his torso held him safely. He let his eyes fall shut and his head droop as he’d given over to pleasure and need, but when Tony started caressing him, he had to look. He watched the man spreading his huge hand over his abs, then sliding it down towards his crotch. He avoided Peter’s straining erection as he slipped his palm onto Peter’s inner thighs, but his eyes were fixated on the bulge in his briefs.

“You are beautiful,” Tony breathed, his mouth close enough to Peter’s ear so that he could hear him.

Peter felt a wave of heat wash over him at those words and he turned his head to capture Tony’s lips.

When they separated, Tony held his gaze for a few seconds before speaking.

“The next part of this exercise is easier to execute without any clothes,” Tony pointed out. “But it can be a big step. Would you like to try it?”

Peter shuddered. He’d made up his mind earlier, but he was given a chance to think it over again and he wanted to take it. He glanced briefly at Tony, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tony was taking him out to dinner. That invitation stood, regardless of his answer. It reassured him in a way that his own arguments couldn’t. He inhaled again and didn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I would love to try that um… more advanced exercise,” he answered, grinning.

Tony mirrored his expression, then dove in to kiss the crook of Peter’s neck. Peter cried out and grabbed Tony’s arm for support. His grip only turned stronger when he felt the man’s fingers edge towards his cock. At first, Tony only traced the hem of his briefs, then he slowly slipped under the material. By then, Peter were writhing in his arms, jolts of arousal shooting through his system at each maddening touch. When Tony finally pulled away, Peter was completely breathless and needed the man’s support to lower himself onto the bench. He didn’t even realise that he closed his eyes until Tony’s hand came up to his face.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked.

“I’m fine. More than fine,” Peter sighed, then fell silent, when he realised that Tony was sitting next to him, completely naked.

He blushed but he didn’t look away from the man’s crotch. His dick was delectable. Peter bit his lower lip and kept staring. His eyes only darted upwards, when Tony reached for his own cock and stroke it a few times.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked.

Peter returned his gaze to the man’s erection and nodded.

“I love it,” he said out loud. “Can I touch?”

Tony pulled away his hand and spread his legs to give Peter better access.

Peter didn’t hesitate. He licked his palm and reached for that beautiful cock. They both moaned when his fist closed around the tip. Then, Peter started stroking him, squeezing and rubbing, guided by Tony’s laboured breathing.

“Can I…? Can I touch you?” Tony panted, and Peter was so overwhelmed by his question that he captured his lips before answering.

“Yes,” he whispered and pressed his forehead against Tony’s.

Peter tried to brace himself, but Tony’s touch drew a cry from him again. Peter was unable to breath for a long moment, then as Tony started to move, he started to hiss and swear in pleasure. Tony seemed to be just as far gone as he was. Peter opened his eyes when he felt a drop of precum leaking from the man’s cock. Tony swore as Peter smeared it on his tip, then kissed Peter hard, biting and sucking with a hunger that lit Peter on fire.

“Fuck me,” he whispered when they parted, then he repeated in a clearer voice. “Fuck me, Tony.”

Tony pulled back just far enough so that he could look at Peter.

“Please,” Peter whined and this time, Tony answered him.

“Yes. Yes, Petey. I–”

He cut himself off before finishing his sentence and slipped from the bench to kneel between Peter’s legs. Peter stared down at him, speechless. Tony cupped his cheeks with both hands and caressed him gently before kissing him. His tenderness melted Peter’s heart. He kissed back eagerly, burying his fingers in Tony’s hair. Peter couldn’t tell how long they went on like that, but when it ended, his whole body was sizzling with arousal.

“Please,” he begged again.

Tony caressed him soothingly before reaching behind him to cover the bench with their discarded towels.

“Lie back, baby.”

Peter did, and despite his impatience, he shifted a few times to make himself comfortable. When he found the right position, he pulled his legs to his chest, exposing himself to Tony. As he heard the older man swearing under his breath, a new wave arousal spread in his system. He raised his head and glanced down at Tony, just in time to see the man lean in to eat him out.

The sensation of Tony’s thick hot tongue pressing against his rim made him see stars and it tore a loud cry from him. When the man pushed the tip inside, Peter’s whole body jerked. Seeking blindly, he found purchase at the sides of the bench and raised his hip higher to give Tony better access. The man’s low, satisfied growls were the most beautiful praise and Peter kept writhing on the wet towels, holding on the bench for dear life. Every last thought evaporated from his mind and he transformed into heat and ecstasy. Each lick felt more pleasurable than the last and the teasing penetration were maddening and satisfying in equal measures. Soon, Peter could feel the familiar tightness coiling in his groin. He grabbed Tony’s hair and while every last cell in his body were screaming at him to hold the man there and push his hips higher, Peter gently pulled him away.

“I’m close,” he gasped.

Tony understood him and reached for his bag that lay on the floor next to them. Peter chuckled breathlessly when he saw him pull out a bottle of lube and condoms.

“You always carry them to the gym?”

Tony shook his head smirking.

“Just for very special Christmas workouts.”

“Oh, so you do this every year?” Peter teased.

“I’ve never had sex in the gym before,” Tony said.

Peter frowned, then laughed.

“Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, right,” Tony repeated in a very different tone than his. “I didn’t want to fill it with memories I knew I wouldn’t want to hold on to.”

That shut Peter up. His eyes burned and his chest was ready to explode.

“Oh, fuck me already,” he burst out, pulling Tony over himself. “Without condoms is fine by me,” he added.

Tony dove in to kiss him and he didn’t pull away as he lined himself up with Peter and pushed inside. They swallowed each other’s moans and grunts, but eventually they broke apart, both gasping for air.

Tony felt perfect. He filled him deliciously and he was being just as gentle as careful as he’d always been with Peter. They started rocking together, lost in each other’s eyes before Peter couldn’t take in any longer and thrust his hip upwards.

“Move, please. Please. I need you to–”

He was cut off by Tony thrusting hard and deep into him. Peter’s mouth fell open, then he threw his head back and enjoyed as Tony repeated that delightful move again and again.

“Faster,” he panted, and Tony gave him that, too.

Peter was blacking out. All the incredible sensations blurred together, and he was being transported by them.

When he felt himself getting close to the edge, he reached for Tony, only to realise that his arms were already wrapped around the man.

“Tony,” he moaned, opening his eyes. “I’m–”

But before he could get the rest of the words out, his orgasm hit him with a shattering force. Peter threw his head back and rode it out, each wave after the other. He arched his back so that Tony hit his prostate with each thrust and cried out when he felt Tony coming inside him. When the man stilled, Peter pulled him on top of him without giving him a chance to pull out. Tony kissed him and it was messy but delicious. Then, he moved on to the crook of Peter’s neck, and Peter felt like purring. Instead, he cleared his throat and opened his eyes.

“Phew, this was some exercise,” he said.

Tony chuckled.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes,” Peter said. “And it worked.”

“Did it?” Tony teased, pushing Peter’s sweaty hair back.

“I'm all relaxed now. Not a trace of stiffness left.”

“Hm, I don’t know.” Tony frowned. “If you ask me, you’re still pretty tight down here,” he said, bucking his hip playfully before pulling out.

Peter laughed.

“Well, you know what that means…”

“Mm, enlighten me,” Tony teased, kissing him lightly.

“I need more practice,” Peter pointed out.

“That can be arranged,” Tony replied winking. 

They grinned at each other, then Peter buried his face at the crook of Tony’s neck. As Tony slipped his hand at the back of his head to hold him, Peter felt safe and complete and happy.


End file.
